Karma's Payback
by Unadulterated Ebilness
Summary: A sequel-of-sorts to Drunken Disillusionment, even as Terence and Alicia's relationship continues to develop, and Marcus and Katie tie the knot, Oliver starts to rethink the 'Slytherins are EVIL' idea. To be chaptered...
1. Chapter 1

Sky: We just can't stop, can we, Thalia? LOL Our ebilness abounds yet again, ladies and wizards!! This is a sequel of sorts to our first collab… and we're in it for the long haul… so I hope you will be too!! XD Spazziness, sexy Slytherins, and lots of Gryffie/Slythie relationships. What's not to love? Join us, and be corrupted!! **cackles**

Thalia: Yes, we're back. Read the otherfic for this to make some sort of sense to you. But this one is longer, even MORE evil, and it's going to be _chaptered_. We get to see both Oliver AND Marcus in this chapter (both spazzing, nonetheless), and much sexy Terence. You should love us. Of course you do. You should show your love by reviewing, too!

Disclaimer: There are many things that we don't own. And right now, we'd much prefer a hot guy in a tuxedo giving us free limo service than the ownership of fictional characters.

~*~ Karma's Payback ~*~

There were some days that Oliver Wood could, with enough alcohol and just enough imagination, just HEAR Murphy laughing maniacally up in the heavens (or perhaps down in hell where the old bugger BELONGED) at him.

This was one of the days.

            It had been an equation of great simplicity, that had been one of the governing principles of his life. Gryffindors + Slytherins = Violent and Unrelenting Hatred.

            THAT perfectly reasonable and perfectly respectable axiom had just been shattered. THRICE! Oh, if only he were girly (or drunk) enough to bury his head in his arms and have a good cry...

            Well. He didn't really think that he'd want to grow breasts any time soon, but perhaps the firewhiskey would help him reach the necessary drunkenness level. 

            And then the fangirls attacked. Pounced, like kneazles on a poor, defenseless former Gryffindor yarn ball. 

            Yes, Murphy was cackling. May his black soul burn in the depths of the infernal regions. Where was Kirsten with the handy Bludger's bat when one needed her? Or, dammit, where was a paranoid Auror thinking they were eeeevil (which of course fangirls were)... or...

            "_STUPEFY! STUPEFY!_" YES! A SAVIOUR! He might not be completely doomed to fangirl rape after life principle shattering, AFTER all! Slowly, ever so cautiously, he looked up to see who the mysterious saviour was. 

            A young woman in forest green robes with straight, dark hair was coolly levitating the two unconscious fangirls away from his table. Oliver blinked, confused for a few moments.

            She didn't LOOK like an Auror... 

            For one thing, none of the Aurors he knew ever wore dangling earrings. Nor did they smirk at him in a genial sort of fashion and remark, "Popular thing you are."

            "Who are you?" It would be the only reasonable question to ask. After all, he had no idea her motivations for helping him out of his plight. For all he knew, she could be another, far more dangerous and vicious fangirl. She walked closer towards him, still eyeing him with amusement.

            "My name is Risa." 

            Hmm... she couldn't have been in his year. He didn't recall anyone named Risa in his year. Well. Perhaps she was somewhat younger. And didn't play Quidditch. That's probably why he had no idea who she was, even with a name offered. Too bad... if one overlooked that the poor girl had somehow managed to array herself in Slytherin green, she WAS rather pretty. 

            She asked him, as if she had every right to know, why he was getting drunk out of his mind, and when he asked her why she wanted to know, she remarked that the victory party was yesterday and he shouldn't be getting drunk again so soon.

            And Oliver's mind, muddled though it was by the alcohol, was brought back, with a vengeance, to the terrifying things that he had learnt, all in the space of less than an hour. On how the equation Gryffindors + Slytherins = Violent and Unrelenting Hatred had, for NO APPARENT REASON, changed to Gryffindors + Slytherins = Really Good Sex. And now, he WAS drunk enough to bawl.

            Soon, he found himself pouring out the whole, wretched, traumatic tale, slightly incoherent, dropping his face onto her shoulder and clinging to her for comfort (well. She WAS pretty) as she sat down next to him, drinking whatever it was that she was drinking, cool as a cucumber despite the fact that she was listening to a story that should by all rights horrify ANYONE. 

            And yet, she just mentioned her brother's unexpected upcoming marriage, passed over a plateful of biscuits, and moved his head from its comfortable spot on her shoulder. Damn, she didn't even seem FAZED by the idea of a Gryffindor and a Slytherin going at it.

            Had he not been under the influence of half a bottle of firewhiskey, he would have been highly suspicious.

            But right now, all he could do was to listen (rather dumbly) to her remark that Slytherins, in her obviously eccentric mind, weren't that bad.

            What type of sacrilege was THAT!?

            "Why, if it hadn't been for Cassius helping me out my 5th year, I'd never have made it out of my Transfiguration OWL alive... and there was that time when there was the Yule Ball at Hogwarts..."

            Oliver started at this anecdote, his brow furrowed. It... he only knew of ONE person named Cassius, from Slytherin. It happened to be a particularly virulent individual of the species _Gittus Snarkus Slytherinus_. He gaped at her, wondering if she were somehow DRUGGED or something. Aside from a lack of reaction over the Gryffindor/Slytherin principle, she'd seemed all right. Decent. Pretty. Friendly.

            But... associating willingly with Cassius bloody WARRINGTON?! Who the devil in her right mind would DO such a thing?! And did someone drug Warrington while they were at it, for him to willingly help a normal person without ulterior evil motives?! Honestly... dammit, they REALLY should have taken Snape seriously about the slipping random potions into their foods and drinks and...

            But before Oliver could go into a fit over THIS incongruity, of apparent decency in Warrington's character, she finished her story. Something about Warrington taking her to the dance when her date had gone with some other girl. Something about Warrington hexing the other bloke.

Ahh... perhaps that was it. Warrington DID have evil, ulterior motives after all. Oliver didn't know if he should warn the girl that Slytherins were evil and Not To Be Dated As It Didn't Make Sense. 

            Until she said that Warrington WASN'T dating her, and made some sort of remark about Slytherins being human. Oliver felt torn between gladness that she wasn't being evilly seduced by some smarmy Slytherin Quidditch player (not that it really affected HIM... at the moment), and confusion, then, as to how said smarmy Slytherin might have had some semblance of human emotions in his villainous heart.

            The most manly way of expression all this, of course, was by pouting. He looked adorable when pouting, and she would stop tying his brain in knots talking about how Slytherins were decent, etc. etc...

            But she would have none of it. And... manipulative little wench woman, made him admit to himself that if Angie, Ali and Katie had been unhappy, they certainly would have come to him.

            Dammit... a woman who was insane, sharp-witted, AND pretty. Next thing he'd know, she would be a Quidditch enthusiast, too! He was in TROUBLE.

            She left some coins on the table, admonished him not to get a hangover, and left as quickly as she came, those green robes rustling slightly as she swept out of the pub.

            "Don't take it too hard, m'boy. Just like her brother, she is. All Flints have a way of making others feel a touch on the smaller side."

            It took a few seconds for THIS statement to register in his mind, but when it did, he choked. BLOODY FUCKING BRIMSTONE PLASTERED HELL.

            FLINT.

            And not just... ANY Flint. Marcus bloody sodding hateful son-of-a-bint Flint's SISTER. How the HELL did THAT prat get a normal, nay, even... dare he say it... ATTRACTIVE sister!?!?!

            It just didn't make any sense. It was... what was that word... SURREAL. All of it.

            And as his head hit the top of the table, Oliver was sure he could hear Murphy laughing his depraved arse off.

~*~

It was a very formal-looking invitation. Cream-coloured, silver-edged parchment, rolled and tied with a silver ribbon, the words on it engraved in a formal, classic script.

Oliver Wood was cordially invited (probably with the cordiality on the bride's part alone) to attend the wedding of Kathryn Ann Bell and Marcus Horatio Flint, on the first of October, at the Flint residence in Yorkshire, etc. etc. 

Staring at the fine parchment as a Potions researcher might at some particularly unrecognizable vial of sludge, Oliver gave a deep, mournful sigh. It was... all _real!_ He could feel the slightly powdery surface of the parchment, the tiny depressions formed by the engraved words on it. Katie and... _Flint?!_ It really didn't make any sense. Bloody hell, the bastard had shoved her off her broom and given her Merlin only knew how many bruises in their school days!

_'My brother's getting married to the last person that anyone, even himself, expected him to._' Egads... and _she_ would be there! At THAT thought, the disgruntled and gloomy thoughts that had been swimming around in Oliver's head truly manifested themselves in a pout upon his face. He could just _see_ what would happen. The daft bird would just be there and all but point at Marcus and Katie and smirk at him and be like "boo-yah! see? SEE?!" and be all smart and clever and snarky and pretty and... what the _devil _was he thinking?!

"Evil little pretty Slytherin wench," he groaned, glaring sullenly at the innocent-looking parchment in his lap as if it had somehow mortally offended him.

"Ooh, who's the pretty Slytherin wench?" A very amused male voice sounded close by, as Terence Higgs sauntered over, eyebrows raised and a smirk in place upon his face. "She must _really_ be something, eh? To catch the eye of this virulently anti-serpent Quiddisexual Kilted Wonder."

The glare Oliver shot him would have had Voldemort behaving like a good ickle puppy rather than facing his wrath. Terence, however, was oblivious as he swung up and sat right on the corner of the desk Oliver was at. "Don't read so much into that, Higgs," the Scot warned.  "She hasn't caught _anything _of mine except maybe my annoyance."

"And who might this paragon be, anyway?" Terence asked, still smirking and evidently ignoring Oliver's insistence that the 'evil little pretty Slytherin wench' had incited nothing but annoyance. "Y'know, if I know her, I could put in a good word for you." He gave a benevolent sort of grin that somehow irritated Oliver more than a smirk would have.

"Were you anyone other than yourself, I would say thank you for your concern... but you're you. I REALLY don't need you of all people putting in a good word for me, thanks. Not with her being a..." Oliver paused, his face twisted as though it was extremely difficult for him to say the next word.  "Flint," he finally managed to choke out.

Terence's eyes widened, before they glittered in both amusement and fondness. "Flint? You must be talking about Risa... ahh, lovely girl, she is..."

"Yes she... Wait a minute. You know Flint's sister?? Since when?" Oliver demanded, praying that he covered his accidental confession before Terence could notice it.

Terence noticed it, though, and his smirk widened to very painful-looking proportions. "Oh, for the loooongest time," the Slytherin drawled, taking a somewhat malicious delight in keeping his captain in a state of discomfort, "She WAS in my house. AND my year. We've known each other of old... and where did YOU meet her, might I ask?"

Shifting in a way that showed he was feeling a touch uncomfortable, Oliver looked away and muttered vaguely, "Umm... we bumped into each other at the Shifty Niffler. So... is she a... friend of yours then? Or was she one of your... you know...." He made absent gestures with his hands, trying to hint at what he didn't want to say; that maybe she had been a member of his 'harem'.

Had Terence been able to truthfully say yes, he certainly would have, by all means, just to observe the actions of what no one had ever seen before: a jealous Oliver Wood. But the Slytherin gave a rather dramatic sigh, before fixing Oliver with a dirty look, "You must be joking, right? Flirt with Risa with Flint there ready and willing to brain any bloke with dishonourable intentions? I'm not _that _stupid. No… all of us were rather more fraternal towards her than anything else. I didn't know her as well as some, but she was a great deal of fun." He gave a nostalgic sign before winking, "I wish I could tell you that I took her virginity or something like that just to see you go into a jealous rage."

"WHY would I fly into a jealous rage?!?" Oliver snarled at the younger man, "She's… she's… a _Flint_…"

"True," Terence nodded thoughtfully, "But a rather pretty one. But don't you worry, captain," he gave Oliver a smarmy sort of look, "I'm not interested. I have an Ali, which is enough."

"That just makes me feel _so_ much better," Oliver glowered at the Seeker, "The little… she didn't even tell me who she _was!_ While she was there!"

Terence clapped his hands and grinned, "Good girl… got you thinking that she's some sweet young thing, and then you found out her identity. And now, let me guess… you can't help but still think that she's a sweet young thing. Despite knowing who she is. Ah, the fun…"

"This isn't bloody FUN," Oliver growled, "And I do NOT think she's a sweet young thing. HONESTLY…"

"Well then," Terence gave him an almost approving sort of look, "You're less thick than I'd thought. You're right, because she isn't exactly 'sweet'. But then, 'sweet' Slytherins are about as rare as albino zebras. Or slutty Hufflepuffs."

"That was _just_ what I wanted to know," Oliver grimaced in disgust, "Thank you ever _so_ much."

"You're so very welcome," Terence, still perched on the desk, swung his legs slightly as his face took on a rather faraway expression. "Why, Risa… when I first met her, she still wore her hair in braids…"

Braids? Oliver thought back to the young woman he'd met at the pub, dark hair down her back half-pinned away from her face with a clip of gold. He squinted slightly as he tried to picture this same individual, much shorter, with braids. It was just… rather difficult.

"See, Malfoy," Terence rolled his eyes slightly, "Had taken _my_ position on the team. Bought it, really. With a bunch of broomsticks. And then I'd nothing to do. Two years as Seeker… and that was it. Oh, those were unhappy times…" the Slytherin shook his head grimly.

"Of course, I did what I usually did when unhappy. Whined to my cousin Cassius about it at length, but he got sick of listening to it after a while and told me that there wasn't really anything he or I could do about it. I remember running down the hall fuming after _that_ conversation…"

Oliver winced slightly, feeling an odd rush of sympathy for the young man. Had _he_ been replaced just like that… "And?"

"Oh, I wasn't really watching where I was going," Terence remarked, "Almost knocked the poor bird off her feet. And then when I saw who it was, I almost wish I HAD. The sister of the Quidditch captain who sold away MY position."

Terence gave a slight sigh, and grinned ruefully, "I remarked something along those lines to her."

"And what befell you?"

"Oh, she glared and gave me one of those girly punches… well, it _did_ hurt a little bit. And she told me that at least _I_ got to play at all. As a girl, she'd have no chance whatsoever, if she were so inclined. Very logical one, she is… you just can't argue with her. It doesn't work, and she always wins. That's probably why she got on so well with Cassius. They were both that type, really. Like a second brother, he was…"

Oliver, however, didn't pay attention to the remarks about Cassius Warrington, and mulled what Terence had said before that in his head. '_Very logical one, she is… you just can't argue with her. It doesn't work, and she always wins.'_

He choked down an irrational temptation to give Terence an evil look and demand "Why didn't you TELL me that _before?!_"that had suddenly arose.

Terence, evidently finished with the reminiscing, nimbly got off the top of the desk and gave his captain an impertinent sort of grin. "Ah well… though I can't say that I have any first-hand experience in the area, alas, I daresay that she could be a good shag, if you manage to not get murdered by Marcus. Although…" Here, the Seeker sobered slightly, "I wouldn't recommend using her as a shag on the side. Believe it or not, we Slytherins _do_ also practice the 'break her heart and we hex you into an unrecognizable, convulsing mass of shrieking bloodied arsehole male' thing, too. And if she cries… well. There wouldn't just be the wrath of Marcus Flint to contend with. Warrington, Montague, Pucey, Bletchley, myself… oh, it might get a _little _bit unpleasant."

ARGH! On top of _everything_ else, bloody Terence Higgs just _had_ to bring up something that might somehow give the impression that Slytherins had positive personality traits: such as loyalty and care to their own. Oliver turned away and resumed his silent evil-eye treatment of the wedding invitation.

As if reading his thoughts, Terence moved slightly away, with one parting shot. "I'll let you fantasize about intriguing evil pretty Slytherin women in peace, then." Snapping a mocking, jaunty salute, the Seeker skipped off back towards his own desk, leaving Oliver in a dark mood not untinged with utter confusion.

~*~

On a day like today, the sun out and shining with occasional fluffy clouds drifting by  and a gentle breeze keeping things from getting too warm, the practice pitch was booked from sunup to sundown. Teams would rotate in, the next bunch of players turned into slaves by their captain or coach's will for the next hour until tired and sweaty, they'd leave the pitch for the following batch of poor souls.

Alicia Spinnet was thoroughly glad she was not one of those poor souls on this day.  

Today she merely lounged in the empty seats, her legs draped over the seat in front of her and a book she had been reading sprawled across her stomach as she semi-dozed in the afternoon rays. She was just starting to idly wonder if she should go get something for lunch (as it was pretty late in the day), when a shadow fell over her. Blinking sleepily, she looked up into the amused, albeit upside-down, face of Terence Higgs.

"Observing the enemy, my dear Ali? Taking notes on the other teams' techniques? Wood will be so proud of you when you report in."

"Oh stuff it," Alicia growled playfully, taking a swat at the arm braced on her seat.

"And I love you too," he teased back before vaulting over the seat to plop down in the one next to her.

Pulling her legs back down to the floor, she sat up, marking her spot in her book before putting it off to the side. "You know I wouldn't spy on the other teams, Ter..." she started.

"Of course you wouldn't. Not sweet, ickle, honourable Gryffindorish Alicia." Terence laughed as she took another swat at him. "Ooh, spankings… kinky…" he waggled his eyebrows mischievously at her.

"You watch your mouth, mister!" she threatened, sticking her tongue out childishly.

He remained quiet long enough to watch as her tongue stroked her bottom lip before disappearing behind it. "Why should I watch my mouth when I would much rather watch yours?" he asked in that low purr of his that sent warm tingly feelings shooting down a lady's spine.

Alicia quivered slightly as her reaction was just that. Still, she tried to put up a brave front in the face of defeat.  "Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Higgs," she stated as though his voice and words had no effect on her whatsoever and made as if to pick up her book again.

Not fooled one iota, Ter covered her hand with his, keeping her from reaching the novel, and when she turned to look at him, he was already leaning in to capture her lips before she could do anything else. He took his time, his mouth moving against hers with sweet patience, seducing her right off her guard and into a drowsy, relaxed state. When he pulled back, her eyes fluttered open and closed, looking like she did before: as though she had just woken up from a nice long nap.

When she could finally remember how to focus her eyes, Alicia couldn't help reflecting the grin, Ter shot her. "So... what do I owe the honor of such a pleasant 'hello', hmm?"

"Well for starters, I figured you might be hungry, so I brought us a little something..." he reached behind the seat to where he had set down a handful of things, two of them being glass bowls of fruit salad. Patting himself on the back at the pleased look on her face for having guessed correctly that she hadn't had lunch yet, he gave her one of the bowls before handing her a small stack of envelopes. "And this, is your mail. I went looking by your desk to bring you lunch... but when I heard you were out here, I figured you hadn't read your letters yet. Plus it seems like you got an invitation to the big event too."

"Big event...?" Alicia balanced her bowl on her lap while she sifted through the letters before she came across the cream-coloured note. "Oh! Katie's wedding! You're going then?"

"One of the groomsmen," Ter explained. "What about you?"

Reading the invite quickly, she beamed and announced, quite happily, "And I'll be one of the bridesmaids!"

"Not maid of honor?" he asked, puzzled.

With a playful giggle, Alicia shook her head. "Nope. Angelina's going to be that. Back when we were still in Hogwarts, we starting talking about someday when we might get married, and promised we would pick each other for maid of honor. So at Angelina's wedding, that's when I'll be it..."

"And at ou- yours, Katie will be your maid of honor," Terence finished, purposely smirking confidently in an attempt to hide his slip-up.

            Unfortunately for him, Ali had zoned right in on it. "Ours?" she squeaked. "You were going to say 'ours', weren't you?"

Shifting awkwardly, Ter pulled back, whether to give himself or her some space, he wasn't sure. "Sorry... I didn't mean to... jump to conclusions like that. I don't want to rush things either... and we've only been steady for what, two weeks? It's just..." He hesitated, biting his lip in a way that made him look adorably vulnerable... a look made all the more endearing by the fact that it was an expression he rarely wore. "I've never... felt so... in tune with someone. So... connected and close." Carefully, he took her hand in his, taking as a good sign when she didn't pull away. "You complete me, Alicia."

Alarm melted away to reveal the young woman close to tears, even as she smiled warmly at him. Try as she might, Ali couldn't think of anything to say... or at least anything that could compete with what he'd just said, so she decided to let actions speak louder than words. The hand that wasn't nestled in his reached up to stroke his cheek lovingly, and he turned to kiss the palm, his eyes locked on hers. When she still said nothing, he arched a brow, wondering what she was up to. But then she cupped his face and guided his lips to hers.

The world seemed to be under _Silencio_ as the two kissed, oblivious to the random whistle from one of the players above who noticed the lovers in the stands before a sharp reprimand from his captain dragged him back to the practice. What did snap Alicia out of their tender moment was the feeling of something on her lap slipping... namely her lunch. She pulled back with a gasp as she felt it fall over the edge of her knee.

With his lightning fast Seeker reflexes, Terence's hand shot out and managed to catch the glass bowl before its plunge without spilling so much as a grape. He grinned as Alicia gave him an impressed look. "I'm a useful lad to have around, you can't deny that," he said cheerfully.

"Oh, I'd never deny it," Alicia replied coyly. Then she sobered slightly. "It's not that... I don't like the idea of marrying you, you know.  It's just..." 

"Too soon," Ter finished, her relieved look confirming it. He leaned back, returning her lunch to her. "I understand that. I'm not ready to jump into marriage myself yet either. But maybe..."

"Someday," Alicia wrapped up with a smile.  

"Someday," Ter echoed, before a devious smirk spread across his lips. "Besides... I want to milk our dear captain's torture as much as possible with this upcoming wedding before I give him fresh horror to have kneazle kits over."

Ali sighed as she popped a strawberry in her mouth, her boyfriend following suit with his own bowl of fruit.  "Oliver's still not taking it well?"

"Oh the whole thing's going over him like a lead balloon," Ter snarked. Then he shook his head. "He'll get used to it. And I have to admit, I'm rather impressed he hasn't hexed Flint, Montague, and myself beyond recognition yet.  Either he has excellent self-control," Alicia snorted and Terence snickered at her reaction, "Or... he's got his mind on other things."

Raising an eyebrow, Alicia asked, "Is there something you know that I don't?"

At this point, Ter's grin would have made Voldemort himself proud of the pure evil that was in it. "He's met Flint's younger sister, Risa. It's REALLY got his knickers in a twist... and not necessarily in a bad way."

"Risa Flint?" Ali repeated thoughtfully. "Ah yes... she was in our year, but your house. I remember now... I got paired up with her from time to time in class. She was always pretty decent as far as Slytherins went... and no, don't give me that look," she warned as Ter's face threatened to scowl. "We weren't too different from Oli at one point in time, thinking all Slytherins were evil."

"Yes, but you and your female companions are smarter than that; you catch on quicker than our poor sod of a captain who is still insisting on drowning in denial."

Alicia chortled, but opted to not openly agree with his statement. "Well, anyways... Risa was actually pretty easy to get along with. Although our differences were rather apparent when it came to Quidditch matches; house loyalty and all that... but she's a good person. Just... what does SHE have to do with Oliver?"

His eyes glinting with sheer mischief and amusement, Ter told Ali what he had managed to glean off of Oliver. Ali's eyes went wide before she started to snicker. "So you think that Risa and Oliver...?"

"Well, I haven't seen her recently enough to tell if the feeling's mutual, but I do believe Wood is starting to rethink that 'All Slytherins are off-limits' policy of his."

"Now _this _I've got to see..."

"You just might. If I'm not mistaken, Risa will undoubtedly take part in her brother's wedding. We shall have to keep an eye on the two dears. Can't let them do anything too... naughty."

Alicia elbowed him lightly, causing him to laugh. "You make it sound like they're fourth years who need to be kept from trying to sneak off for a snog. They're adults, Ter, as are we."

"Oh, I KNOW we're adults," Ter said, waggling his eyebrows. He only grinned when Ali sent him a mock-glare.

"My point is that they don't need chaperones. But..." She hesitated for a moment... then began to smirk. "It should make for an interesting show to see unfold." 

"Exactly, love," Terence agreed. "We are acting solely out of the concern of our hearts to make sure our dear captain and the groom's sister behave accordingly."

Alicia snorted. "Like WE behave 'accordingly'..."

"What folks don't know... or at least, know much of... won't hurt them. Speaking of which... care to, ahem, 'go behave accordingly' now?"

With a look that would almost be classified as predatory, Alicia leaned up and nipped along his jaw line before reaching his ear and whispering, "With you? Always."

"Your place or mine?"

"Uh-uh, lover-boy. It was my place last night. Your turn now."

"Done."  
And gathering their things, they vanished with a loud 'crack' leaving the stands once again deserted.

~*~

            In the stately mansion, well-hidden from Muggle eyes, in Wakefield, Yorkshire, a powerfully-built young man was bickering with his fiancée.

            "I still don't see why you had to invite _him_," Marcus Flint was growling, his beefy arms crossed over his chest, and nodding towards the guest list on the table. "He's…"

            "My former Quidditch captain, and a friend," Katie said firmly, "Of course I'd invite him. It would be terribly rude not to."

            "Perhaps," Marcus narrowed his eyes slightly, "But it's not as though we're on exactly friendly and jovial terms…"

            "True," Katie nodded slowly, "But can't you put that behind? I mean… _we_ didn't always get along as well as we do now, either."

            "I don't and never had any intention of shagging Oliver Wood. This makes a big difference."

            Before Katie could do much more than glare, the door to the drawing room opened, and the head of a young woman peered in. "Hopefully I'm not interrupting anything too serious?"

            "Oh, it's you," Marcus nodded at his 'baby sister', "Nothing too important. Just telling Kat that she's daft for inviting that great Scottish git for the wedding."

            Risa raised a curious eyebrow, "Why wouldn't Katie want to invite Oliver Wood? It's… you know… sort of natural. They had been teammates and friends in their school days."

            "That was before we got together," Marcus shrugged, as if his 'getting together' with Katie changed everything so intrinsically, that there really was nothing else to say.

            Risa gave her brother a challenging smirk, "What, are you afraid that Wood's going to attempt to disembowel you for evilly seducing one of his girls? I've met the bloke… he really doesn't seem to be that violent a sort."

            "I would be scared if he didn't want to disembowel me, but that's beside the point, which is that he's merely a royal pra--- _you met him?!_" Now Marcus was gaping at his sister in outrage, "_Where?! When?!_ What did he _do?!_"

            "Calm down, Marcus," Risa shook her head wryly, "I just happened to see him in the pub the other day. He didn't do anything, I didn't do anything… It was merely me watching him drink himself out of his gourd and listening to him wail about how his poor ickle Chasers had been seduced by vile Slytherins such as yourself. I think that was the day he found out from his teammates that you two were, in fact, engaged."

            The fact that his sister had, in fact, _not_ performed kinky sexual favours for the stupid Scottish berk, as Marcus was wont to think of Oliver, did not really reassure the man that his sister was all right. "But he was _drunk_, then! He could have done any number of terrible things to you! _RIIIISSAAA!_"

            "Oh, bloody wonderful," Risa rolled her eyes, "Are you going to wail, too? That will be completely unnecessary… and moreover, even if he HAD tried anything, which he didn't, I would have been able to handle myself, wouldn't you say? It wasn't as though _I_ was drunk, too. And what with you and Warrington and Bletchley and the lot of _you_ hanging about me all the time in school, you do realize that I know a few nasty hexes if the necessity arose." 

            "WHY DIDN'T YOU USE THEM, THEN?!"

            "Because there was no use?" Risa gave her brother an odd look, "Now, now… calm down, really. Even if Oliver 'Slytherins are eeeeeevil!!' Wood _had _the inclination to try anything funny, he was rather too plastered and wouldn't have been very effectual anyway. Do stop wasting your time flailing and yelling at _me_. Save all the energy for your wedding night, hmm?"

            Marcus spluttered for a few moments, gave her a dark scowl, realized (as most did) that he couldn't win, and stalked out of the room, muttering something about snarky little bint sisters. Risa watched his retreating back with a smirk on her face.

            "Ahem," Katie cleared her throat, eyeing her future sister-in-law with a half-expectant, half-suspicious look on her face, "All right then... where's the rest of the story that you DIDN'T tell your brother?"

            The Slytherin woman chuckled slightly in amusement, "Oh, the part where your former captain started sobbing on my shoulder? Well. He WAS drunk."

            Now Katie raised both eyebrows in an expression of astonishment. "Really. He must have been… to cuddle up with the sister of his great enemy. Can't get past school Quidditch rivalry, that one.."

            Risa beamed, an affable smile belied by the mischief in her eyes. "Oh, he didn't know who I was. For all I know, he might have thought I was a sweet and innocent Hufflepuff."

            The dark-blonde former Gryffindor gave a snort, "Yeah, right…"

            "Anything is possible. If you could fall silly in love with my git brother, KATHRYN, ANYTHING is possible," Risa said with a beatific grin. 

            Katie gave her a shrewd look, crossing her arms. "Oh, such as YOU... letting Oliver Wood... sob on your shoulder."

            "Oh, not for long I didn't," Risa raised an eyebrow in amusement, "I removed his head from my shoulder after a moment. Didn't want to run the risk of him blowing his nose on my robes."

            At that, Katie had to laugh, and the other woman laughed with her. "Ah well... now that I have met your former captain... I have to say that it WAS a very amusing experience, all in all. And if he weren't drunk as a wheelbarrow and blubbering like a three year old deprived of chocolate frogs, he would be rather endearing. There _is_ something to be said about Quidditch players from rival houses, no?" The last was spoken rather impishly, with a wink.

            "I'll save any compliments for your brother to tell him in private," Katie said firmly, "But your positive estimation of Oli…"

            "Don't worry. I won't mention it to Marcus. It WOULD be terribly sad for him to spend his wedding night in Azkaban for murder," Risa swore solemnly, though her lips were still quirked into an amused grin. "It will be dinnertime soon, I'll go and get ready."

            Katie smiled wryly as she, too, walked out of the drawing room.

~*~

Later that evening, Marcus waited for his turn in the bathroom he and Katie shared, sitting on the edge of the bed clad only in a pair of trousers. When Katie finally emerged in her slip of a nightgown, a towel over her arm. She grinned slightly when she caught sight of the scowl on her fiancé's face.

"Don't tell me you're STILL mad..."

"I'm not _mad_ exactly," he corrected, arms crossed over his bare chest. His posture relaxed slightly however when Katie put her towel aside and curled up on the bed next to him, wrapping her arms around his middle. "I just... he's going to cause trouble. He's a stubborn, kilted git, and he'll be raising hell about us and he's..."

"My friend," Katie cut him off firmly. "Please, Marcus... I want him to be there. I want him there just as much as I want Ali and Angie there..."

"Well, the girls I don't mind. THEY got used to the idea pretty quick. Although I think that's because they had some... 'help' in that department." He smirked, recalling Montague, his best man, telling him how perfect things were turning out with he and Angelina Johnson, his girlfriend for nearly four months now, were to be paired up at the wedding ceremony. Plus there was that little tidbit he added about pairing a certain former Seeker of his with a certain Ms. Spinnet. "But Wood... he's not as sharp as they are. I'm just worried he's going to cause some... unpleasant scenes." Marcus knew he was virtually whining, but he didn't care. Granted, his old rival being at his wedding wasn't going to sour his mood, but it would certainly be annoying.

Thinking of her conversation with his sister earlier, Katie said thoughtfully. "Oh, I doubt things will be unpleasant... but that's not to say that things won't be interesting."

Marcus looked at his wife-to-be sharply. "And what, pray tell, is THAT supposed to mean?"

"Oh," she replied, radiating innocence, "Just the fact that he's going to have to make himself behave like a gentleman. He really is a good friend, and he wouldn't want to make me, or Ali, or Angie upset , even if it meant getting a very evil Slytherin in the bargain." She winked coyly up at him after her 'evil' remark.

Successfully distracted, Marcus grinned wolfishly down at the woman beside him, before uncrossing his arms and wrapping them around her in return. "Ah, but you like that I'm evil, don't you, love?"

Pretending to think about it, Katie answered, "Hmmm... I'm not sure. Why don't you show me?"

And Marcus promptly forgot that it was his turn for the bathroom, his mind occupied by the sexy witch who was secretly snickering at the idea of how things would turn out on their wedding day.


	2. Chapter 2

Thalia: The hilarity of the wedding, spazzy!Marcus, assorted Slytherin Quidditch players, and methinks poor ickle Olikins doesn't stop blushing at all. Enjoy!

Skyler: **battleworn but waving the fic flag proudly** Sorry 'bout the wait y'all! RL just has no sympathy on us poor ficcying devils. **sniff** Much fun all around here... lots of snark and Oli gives a tomato a good run for its money in the red department. XD Have fun!

Disclaimer: We don't own them. We just have them on indefinite loan.

~*~

"You're dating WHO?!"

Adrian Pucey, despite being surrounded by his oldest and closest friends, any number of different types of good alcohol, and a horde of brazen, buxom strippers (one of whom was caressing her stiletto boot up and down with both hands and giving him a smouldering look), looked as though he would rather be anywhere but there at the moment. He gave Cassius Warrington, the one who'd asked the question, a very cowed sort of look. "Hannah's nice, really..."

"I know that," Warrington rolled his eyes slightly, absently moving a bikini-clad blonde off his lap and depositing her onto a nearby bar stool. "That's the point. How did someone so... nice... end up with you, ol' boy?"

Pucey almost squirmed, as all the others turned to stare at him. "Er, well... met her one evening... at a cafe. I'd just been, you know, sitting around, minding my own business, and she was working there. It was really late, and she just looked really tired and yet she was always smiling when she gave me my order... and then it started to rain..."

"And you offered to walk her to her apartment in a Muggle neighborhood because she was just so damn adorable and innocent, she gave you a smile to cause cavities with its sheer sweetness at the door, kissed you on the cheek, made you blush, and all sorts of incredibly un-Slytherin things?" Warrington interjected with a mock-sigh.

"...Something of the sort," Pucey mumbled, to the amusement of everyone. "WHAT? She makes a really good apple pie!"

"Ah well... Hufflepuff girlfriend or no, you're still somewhat free," Terence remarked with a slight smirk at Adrian, "Marcus, on the other hand... how do you feel about getting married? The whole PERMANENCE of the thing?"

Marcus shrugged, unsure if saying something positive would be construed as despicably soppy, while saying something negative might be construed as... terribly wrong and unfeeling. "Well... honestly... I don't know. But it should be interesting."

"I'm sure it shall," Montague remarked in a deceptively quiet voice, "And when they do, they'll give Adrian's sweet Hufflepuff girlfriend a run for her money in the sugar department."

"Especially when the sproglets come," Terence interjected with a smirk, "My heart just warms up at the image of Marcus rocking an ickle baby to sleep, crooning lullabies and babbling baby-talk and..."

"Shut the hell up..."

"I'm sure it'll happen someday," Warrington said comfortably, "Let's hope that someone shall be on hand to take the incriminating photographs."

"Let's hope that you rascals don't attempt such a thing for your own safety's sake," Marcus retorted.

"Who said anything about us?" Warrington smirked, "Katie will do it herself. From what it seems, most females go batty over that sort of scene. And Terence, just so you know, Spinnet's going to kill you if she knew how hard you're staring at that redhead's breasts."

"Alicia's breasts are bigger... and I personally think that that redhead needs to do something about that mole..." Terence trailed off, blinking as the other men burst into raucous laughter.

"Bloody HELL... since when did I start comparing the breasts of bloody STRIPPERS to those on my girlfriend?!"

"Since the word 'whipped' can be added as a epithet to your name, next question?"

~*~

"Kathryn Ann Bell! If you don't quit with the fidgeting, illegal or no I'm going to Imperius you so you don't wind up tugging your gown to pieces! Leave it alone, girl!"

Katie squirmed a little more at Angelina's scolding, but she managed to still her hands. Alicia shot the Maid of Honour a bemused but reprimanding look as both of them helped their friend with the final touches to her wedding dress. Angelina merely shrugged, her motion saying "That's how I am, dear."

"Are you sure the train's fixed? I couldn't believe the seamstress did attach it right..." Katie fretted, starting to fidget again.

Angelina snapped her mouth shut as Alicia cast her another look, but it was Kirsten, who was standing with Risa and watching the whole process, who answered. "That's because you were so anxious to try it on, you didn't give her a chance to finish making sure everything was together properly! Honestly, Katie; everything will be just fine." She paused to hand Alicia the brush so the girl could go through the bride's locks one last time. "Besides... I think I've got more to worry about than anyone else combined. I hope you know how much this means for me to willingly pair up with a bloke like Pucey. Think he'll behave himself at the ceremony?"

"If his girlfriend has anything to say about it, he'll be such a good boy even his own mother won't recognize him," Katie laughed, glad for a reason to relieve some of her built up nerves. "Marcus tells me he's quite the angel as far as Hannah is concerned."

"An angelic Slytherin..." Angelina mused, smirking. "Who'd have thought I'd live to see the day?"

The women all giggled at this. As one of them WAS a former Slytherin, and three of them were either dating or about to be married to other Slytherins, they all knew full well what a rare case Pucey's was.

"And look at it this way," Alicia said to Kirsten, still chuckling, "At least it's not Warrington."

"No, because I have that esteemed pleasure. Because I'm the only one of you lot who can STAND him." Risa put in with a grin. "Oh, the memories this shall bring... although unlike that time at the Yule Ball, he won't be hexing anyone afterwards. I hope..."

"I highly doubt that," Katie said, adjusting her headdress one last time before taking the bouquet Risa had been holding for her. "Actually, the one I'm REALLY worried about going on a hexing spree is Oliver. I just hope he can behave himself... for a few hours at any rate."

"Oh, he will," Alicia reassured her. "Despite his supposed lack of blessings, Oliver just wants you to be happy. This is YOUR special day: He won't do anything to ruin it for you."

"Still," Risa drawled, her eyes alight with amusement. "This will definitely be... interesting. It's no secret that he and Marcus can't stand each other..." she paused while the girls sniggered at Katie muttering "Don't I know it..." under her breath, "and they're both cursed with this habit of being rather overprotective. It'll be quite fun to see them resisting the urge to hex the living daylights out of each other."

Kirsten cracked up at this. "Such a little sadist you are! That's your own brother you're going to watch suffer!"

"Your point being...?"

Risa smirked as the others dissolved into giggles again, the bride now looking far more relaxed. When one of ring bearers, (a younger cousin of Katie's) poked his head in to say they were ready, she took a deep breath and walked steadily over to the door, the others following her, uncertainties and nerves left behind to drift out the window, forgotten.

~*~

Katie looked splendid in her wedding gown, the cream-coloured satin bringing out the warm golden colour of her hair and her graceful figure. A bouquet of delicate flowers in her hands, her head demurely bent, she came down the aisle on her father's arm.

Her brother, Risa noted to great satisfaction, did look suitably goofy and lovestruck. Or perhaps discombobulated was the better word for it. Warrington, standing close behind Marcus, had to prod the groom before he remembered to say his vows.

Scanning the audience as the couple at the altar exchanged rings, Risa noticed one man, looking rather better than the last time she'd seen him, wearing burgundy dress robes and a still-somewhat-bewildered-but-rather-resigned expression.

"... I pronounce you man and wife, to traverse through the journey that is life together forevermore. You may kiss the bride."

Risa glanced at her brother and Katie, as the former, a wide smirk on his face, pulled the blushing ex-Gryffindor into his arms and kissed her soundly, amidst applause from the audience.

Oliver Wood, shaking his head like a poor, lost soul, started clapping along with everyone else after about three seconds' hesitation. Risa caught his eye and smirked.

She decided that he was very endearing, all in all, when flustered and trying to glare at her.

~*~

The actual wedding over, everyone moved to the glitzy, spacious ballroom for the reception. Katie, beaming and radiant, with her veil streaming behind her, threw the bouquet out towards the women, and an exuberant Alicia caught it securely, amidst cheers from the others and a loud wolf-whistle from Terence.

"To one of the most dictatorial and demanding blokes I've ever had the dubious honour of knowing," Montague, eyes glinting, made a toast, "And to a former rival whose talents I would never have acknowledged in the past. But things have changed a great deal since school, and I wish both of you happiness and long, healthy lives."

"And of course, splendid and frequent shagging," Terence piped up, to be thwapped by Alicia and glared at by Oliver, but resulting in laughter from all the others.

"To my blustery git brother, and the Gryffindor foolish enough to fall for his questionable charms," Risa piped up merrily, "Since you HAVE made it to the altar, all the best for the future."

Oliver found himself uncomfortably nodding in agreement to the first part of her toast, even as the rest of the company laughed and clinked glasses.

With toasts made and the wedding cake cut (bits of frosting landing not-quite-accidentally in the groom's hair), the small orchestra struck up with classical music, and gradually, with the bride and groom leading, various couples began dancing around the room.

A light, easy tune of friendship filled the ballroom after the first one, and Risa, just as she set down her champagne glass, felt a light tap on her shoulder. Turning around, she saw Cassius Warrington, a slight smirk on his handsome face, looking down at her. "Well, how about it?"

"Where's Su?" Risa asked, looking about the room for the small Asian woman who had come with her old friend.

"With the Entwhistle bloke," Warrington replied, nodding his head towards where a boyishly handsome Ravenclaw was twirling Su Li around the dance floor. "I think this is the 'yes to friendship but no to shagging' dance."

Risa laughed. "How eloquently put," she remarked drolly.

"Fear me and my gift for words," he retorted, "Well?"

"Provided that you don't hex myself or anyone with an elephant's trunk tonight, sure," the young woman gave her friend a grin, and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor.

Warrington wasted no time getting 'to business' once they were on the dance floor. "So. There were some... less-than-minor spazzings from your brother, dearest Risa," he started in a bland voice, "Regarding a certain ex-Gryffindor known by various titles, ranging from a respectable 'Puddlemere captain' to a ludicrous 'Great Kilted Wonder'. Care to fill me in on the specifics of this, and why Marcus seems to think that Wood has terrible intentions of some sort towards you?"

Risa shook her head wryly, "I met Oliver Wood one day at a pub, getting drunk out of his mind, is all. Apparently, my watching him whine about how his Chasers were being evilly seduced to the dark side rather than, say, hexing him into pieces while he's open for attack... is a dreadful and dangerous thing."

Warrington chuckled. "So Wood knows you... is THAT why he wouldn't look at you for half the ceremony and then for the other half, kept blushing and scowling?"

"Wouldn't have a clue," Risa replied airily, "Why were you watching Wood, anyway?"

"Groomsmen's duty to make sure that guests don't go berserk and Transfigure groom into a spiny anteater," Warrington answered immediately. "It seemed most logical that he'd be the one to do it, out of all the guests there."

"I see," Risa snickered slightly, "He seems harmless now... dancing with Alicia Spinnet over there. Still rather shocked by the reality of the whole situation, but otherwise all right."

"So he does," Warrington nodded, before drawing back as the song came to an end. "Well, then... thank you for the lovely dance."

"Yes, yes..." Risa smirked, "Go rescue Su from Entwhistle's clutches before he tries to steal her or something."

"He's not that daft." Warrington replied comfortably, "Hopefully we can talk again later tonight. Enjoy yourself, then!"

And as her friend walked off, Risa leaned against one of the columns, surveying the people in the huge room. Now, various couples were coming together, as another tune struck up. Marcus and Katie were twirling around amongst the others, the latter smiling blissfully.

Slowly, Oliver Wood made his way towards her, a resigned sort of expression on his face.

They'd not exchanged more than three witticisms when Marcus, snarling, was upon them, raging at the former Gryffindor about his 'intentions' towards his sister.

It was only after much convincing (and dragging) from Katie, much more glaring and muttering, and Risa shaking her head in the background the entire time that the groom finally stalked off.

"Slytherins get overprotective too?" Risa had to laugh... he looked genuinely surprised, and if it weren't so ruddy hilarious, she was sure that she'd be feeling awfully sorry for him and his being-re-arranged mind. As it was, though...

"You still have a lot to learn about Slytherins," she told him in a gentle sort of voice, as one song ended and another, a waltz, struck up. "Here, do you want to dance?"

She could do worse. It would be highly interesting, at any rate...

And it was still early enough in the evening that the chances of all the groomsmen still being sober were fairly good.

Just in case Marcus, the great prat, decided to go berserk.

~*~

There was no real polite way to decline. 'Ah,' said a traitorous voice in the back of his mind that just had to throw in its own two knuts. 'But do you REALLY want to decline?'

'She's a Slytherin for Merlin's sake! That's like posting a sign saying Run away!' He mentally retorted.

'Yet that isn't stopping YOU,' the voice pointed out. 'Did you really wanted her to dance more with Cassius 'Swarthy Git' Warrington?'

'......'

'I thought so.'

"Oliver?" Risa ventured as she watched his face twitch with barely concealed expressions. "You there?"

"Eh? What is it?" Oliver asked, coming back to the present.

"Oh nothing... except you're about to walk into the refreshment table and get frosting on your robes."

Oliver turned his face forward just in time and nearly collided with the table. With a yelp he jumped back... and then cast Risa a reproachful look when she sniggered. Pink blossomed on his cheeks as he tried to reclaim his dignity and offered his arm to Risa to guide her onto the dance floor.

She glanced at his arm before looking up at him. "You sure you won't walk me into the gift table when I'm not paying attention?" A smirk was her reply to his glare, and she looped her arm through his. "Oh, hush. Stop trying to spoil the day. Have you even LOOKED at how happy your Chasers are?"

Grudgingly, almost hesitantly, he did look. Katie was sitting with Marcus, having already danced several songs with him, and was laughing with some of the fellow Slytherin friends of his. Among them was Montague... with an arm looped around Angelina's waist. They all burst out laughing as Su Li made some snarky remark to Warrington, who regarded her with an amused look.

Then Oliver glanced out at the dance floor, and Terence and Alicia where also just making there way onto it, holding hands and grinning.

"Love-sick pups, the lot of them," Oliver mumbled, even as he turned to face Risa, taking her right hand in his left, and placing his other hand on her waist.

"But..." Risa coaxed, admittedly enjoying squeezing this confession from him.

"But they ARE happy," he finished with a sigh. 

"There... now was that so hard?" Risa said like she was praising a five-year-old for sharing his favourite toy. 

Oliver started to scowl at her... but then swallowed roughly. Their close proximity had just dawned on him as her hand came to rest on his upper arm for support. She was almost-but-not-quite pressed up against him, swaying in time to the music and letting him lead. Her wolfish grin at the flustered look on his face made him all the more nervous, but she continued steadily, and he found himself following her example.

That's when that blasted inner voice decided to come back.

'Pretty, isn't she?'

'For a Slytherin... and a Flint at that.'

'Oh, hang the school days rivalry: she's pretty for a GIRL. Go on... say it.'

'I'm not going to...'

'Say it.'

'Well, I don't know if I...'

'Saaaaaaaay it.'

'I... I don't.... I '

'Say it!!'

'... She IS rather pretty.'

'There. Now was that so hard?'

'Not really... it's true after all...'

'You catch on quick. Now I'm going to get you to confess to something else.'

Oliver blinked. This was madness. He was carrying on bloody conversation in his own bloody head!! '...And what would that be?'

'Not now,' the voice replied impishly. 'Later.'

'Later?' But then Oliver was snapped out of his thoughts by Risa asking him a question. "Where'd I learn what?"

"To dance," she elaborated. "We had to run Marcus through emergency dancing 101 before the wedding. You Quidditch blokes don't strike me as being very knowledgeable on how to dance. Except Cassius, that is. But I knew he could dance since that Yule Ball. What about you?"

Oliver shrugged as they continued to twirl to the music as the song began to wind down to its close. "The girls taught us," Oliver said, referring to Katie, Angie, and Ali.

"'Us'?"

"The Weasley twins were included. The girls told us it was improper for a bloke not to know how to dance as..." He stopped as a fresh blush arose.

"As...?" Risa prodded, curious.

He took a deep breath. "As we never know when we'll find ourselves with a pretty girl to dance with."

Risa laughed at this, causing him to blush harder. "Definitely sounds like a Gryffindor precaution." She tilted her head as the music changed for the next song, then gave him a not-so-innocent look. "So did they teach you how to dance to this?"

Oliver paused to hear the music as well... and then his eyes widened to dinner plate sizes. "You mean you want to...?!"

"Sure, why not?"

"... Merlin save me..." Oliver muttered as they changed positions slightly... and changed their dance.

Their movements were different now. There were times they were pressed tightly together, and he could feel all of her feminine curves pressed against his frame, and there were other times where he was holding her away from him, guiding her with his hands. And heaven help him... he was rather enjoying himself. 

And just as he was taking her in his arms for a dip, that pesky voice came back. 'Confession number two, laddie.'

'And what do I have to admit THIS time?' he thought irritably.

'That she's sexy.'

He chose that moment to look down while she was bent in an arch over his arm, her head thrown back and her lashes lowered.

'I'm doomed.'

'Now THAT, I could have told you long ago.'

~*~

Up to this point, Marcus felt he had been exceedingly generous. He had not wanted the Scottish git here at his wedding... but for his bride's sake, he had agreed to tolerate his presence. Then he noticed said git getting a little too close for comfort with his little sister. Once again, he had backed off, more or less to keep his beloved wife (Ha-ha Wood! She's mine now and there's nothing you can do about it!!) happy. Besides, there was nothing wrong with dancing... right? He didn't mind her dancing with Warrington. Although, he trusted one of his old teammates loads more than Oliver bloody Wood... plus he knew that the man had a girlfriend who apparently was to his satisfaction, and therefore not a threat to baby sister's innocence. 

But still... a dance or two was safe. Although he didn't like how close Wood was dancing with his sister... another few tunes, and they'd wander off to do other things. Right? Right??

Fate did not favor him this time around: when he heard the next melody for the upcoming song, he paled visibly. No way... now bloody fecking WAY...

His head snapped back to look at the dance floor, and with a feeling akin to horror, he saw that his sister and the git were going to stay and dance to... to...

Bloody hell. His sister was dancing the tango with his archrival. That was just... wrong!

Particularly when Oliver looked down during that certain dip, turning very red when he did so. At this, Marcus all but lunged out of his seat, only hesitating when Katie put a hand on his arm. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? What is WRONG?? I'll tell you what's wrong! Your former CAPTAIN is what's wrong!"

"Marcus, really... you promised to leave him be..."

"If he didn't pull anything! And quite frankly, leaning over my baby sister's... well, YOU know... "

"Breasts?" Katie finished for him, a pitying smile on her face. "It's the tango dear..."

"I REALIZE that! THAT'S why I'm going to KILL him..."

Before Katie could say any more on why committing murder on the day of his wedding was BAD, Marcus was off, practically shoving through the couples on the dance floor, making his furious way towards where Oliver and Risa were dancing the tango at the other side of the ballroom.

Almost as if on cue, three men separated quickly from their partners and wove through the dancers as well, right at Marcus' heels.

"WOOD! GET YOUR GRIMY SCOTTISH PAWS OFF MY..."

"Flint." Warrington quickly stepped in between where an alarmed Oliver and wide-eyed Risa were moving slightly away from each other, and the murderous groom, even as Terence and Montague both took one of Marcus Flint's arms. "°Now, then, do try not to get yourself imprisoned on your wedding. I for one have no intention of bailing you out."±

"Some friend YOU are," Flint glared, struggling in the grasps of Terence and Montague. He gave a glare of unadulterated evil towards Oliver Wood, who was quickly recovering himself and glaring right back. "°Wood, what did I SAY about my sister?"±

"Marcus," Risa interrupted, narrowing her eyes somewhat, "°What did _I_ say about being able to take care of myself?"

"You're twenty-four," Marcus hissed, now turning his glare towards the young woman, "And he's..."­

"Dancing with me," Risa snapped back, "°And I might add that Katie is _my_ age, which doesn't happen to be twelve. Also, what if I'd asked him to dance, not the other way around?"

"B-but… it's..."­Marcus stared at her, completely uncomprehending.

"It's her choice," Warrington finished wryly, "Not the one I'd choose, but then again, I don't swing that way at any rate. Flint, go back to your woman before people start wondering why you're neglecting her. I'll take care of the situation here."

Montague and Terence pulling him inexorably backward, Flint growled and gave Warrington a long look.

"Yes, yes, I'll do a thorough job of threatening the git, now run along," Warrington waved his hand dismissively, before turning his attentions towards the Oliver and Risa. His face was half serious when he faced Oliver Wood. "This is where I'm supposed to give you a long lecture on why you're not to lay a single finger on the girl without her desire, on pain of a very gruesome, lingering death involving, among other things, bubotuber pus, rabid acromantulas, a pair of rusty broom tail clippers and an enchanted rogue Bludger."

"Trust me, Warrington," Oliver narrowed his eyes, "I've no intention of seducing her."

"How about you lot stop talking about me," Risa piped up sweetly, "Both of you, and let _me_ decide whether or not I want to jump Oliver Wood or anyone else on the presents table?"

Oliver's face turned approximately the same colour as his old Gryffindor robes, but Warrington merely sighed and gave Risa a slight smirk. "Ah well, little Risa, remember to play nice, always cast your Contraceptive Charms, and not say such things in your brother's hearing, yes? That's a good girl..."±

Risa gave a light snort, and Warrington turned to Oliver Wood. "Don't do anything too outrageous, Wood. Like, oh… snogging her in front of anyone who would be forced to hex you on principle of the thing."±

The 'threats' given, Warrington turned on his heel and walked away.

~*~

"So..." Warrington was intercepted by a curious Terence Higgs, followed closely by Alicia Spinnet and Su Li. "What did he-who-was-allergic-to-Slytherins have to say for himself?"

The former Slytherin Chaser shrugged, "Aside from assertions that he really didn't have intentions of seducing her, not much. I'm not too worried, really. Though Wood was willing to do the unprecedented and dance with a Slytherin, he's still got a long way to go before any of the terrifying things that Marcus is fearing have any chance of coming true."

"You think they'll come true?" Terence persisted, a mildly diabolical glint in his eyes.

Warrington gave the other man a piercing look, before quickly taking Su's hand and backing away, "Oh, no, no… I'm NOT going there. I have better things to do with my money than one of your silly wagers, especially when they involve an old friend..."

"Awww," Terence gave an exaggerated pout, "But you have so _much_ money… and wouldn't you like to help the poor sods find true luuurve?"

"Not really," Warrington smirked, "I'll be respectful for once and not interfere."

"Damn," Terence muttered, "Stingy bugger."

"Save that face for Alicia," Su told the former Slytherin Seeker bluntly, "As for Risa and Oliver, I hope that… if they do work things out, Marcus won't give them too much grief."

"He's just not as adept as swaying the family of a girl to blind devotion," Warrington remarked complacently, before glancing at his watch. "Well, it's nearing the time for the bride and groom to leave for their honeymoon."

As he and Su backed away, seeking out Katie and Marcus, Terence turned to Alicia with a smirk. "Well."

"You're not serious about betting, are you?" Alicia widened her eyes, even as she met his smirk with one of her own.

Terence glanced at their Quidditch captain, following Risa to where Katie and Marcus were standing, next to a table that used to hold the wedding cake, dressed in traveling robes and cloaks.

And in front of all the guests, the bride and groom (the latter scowling darkly at Oliver Wood), grabbed the small figurines of the witch and wizard that had been on top of the wedding cake.

As the guests waved, the newlyweds disappeared, portkeying to a resort villa in Asia for their honeymoon.

"Lord, but it's nearly midnight," Risa glanced at the clock on the wall, "Time does fly."

"I think that we should probably leave," Alicia remarked to Terence.

"And go to your flat," Terence gave her a very appreciative look, looping his arms around Alicia's waist, "I've spent all evening seeing you in this lovely dress… and thinking that you look even more beautiful without it on."

"I think it's your flat this time," Alicia shot him an arch look, turning her head to meet his eyes, "Shall we?"

"Actually..." Terence paused, something catching his attention a slight distance away, "Just a moment."

~*~

"Well, congratulations," Risa remarked softly, looking up at Oliver, "You've survived the night, and you haven't had to kill any of my old housemates for evil acts of heartlessness against your Chasers."

"I suppose..."­ Oliver grumbled. Katie had looked immensely happy when she had left with Flint, hand in hand. But she didn't have to look so inordinately pleased at his discomfort.

"Now, stop pouting," she told him candidly, "You're not fooling anyone. You're happy for them, aren't you?"

He wasn't quite sure why he nodded. But she smiled widely at him. "See, it will be all right." She seemed to hesitate, for the first time in their acquaintance, before stepping on tiptoe and leaning her face towards his. He gulped.

But her lips merely brushed his cheek for the briefest of seconds, and then she was pulling away, giving him a cheerful "Good night, Wood" and disappearing into a room.

Even as both of them surveyed their crimson-cheeked Quidditch captain in amusement, Terence whispered against Alicia's neck, "Five Galleons that they shag before June."

"I say by St. Patrick's Day," Alicia remarked, "You're on."

"Excellent," Terence grinned, "Now… to _my_ flat."


End file.
